


Mirrors (and the importance of names)

by BuffyDuh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Implied abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyDuh/pseuds/BuffyDuh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.</p>
<p>-St. Jerome</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirrors (and the importance of names)

**Author's Note:**

> I know all the she's/hers are annoying but it will make sense halfway through

 She looked at herself in the mirror, makeup somehow fixing what she once thought was perfect. A dress worth more than her fathers house draped on her gangly body, lying soft and graceful. It's her hair that really gets her. It's darker, how he likes it. No longer her mothers curly brown frizzy mess, it hangs in delicate curls framing her face.

A figure appears behind her, hands so gentle against her shoulders, her neck. "You're so beautiful." He whispers to her.

Her meets his eyes in the mirror and can't seem to come to the same conclusion. It's no longer her in the mirror, she couldn't be found behind all **his** expensive things.

As he retreats, she drops her eyes down to her dresser picking up her shiny diamond ring and slides it on her finger. Her eyes lock with her own in the mirror and she stands. She wants to be herself again, her body, her hair, her life. Not **his**. She unhooks the mirror from the wall and hurls it to the floor, glass shards everywhere. This simple act of chaos is enough for her to claim herself. She wasn't his puppet, she was Stiles Stilinski **not** Hale.

The glass that punctured her skin set her afire and behind her she heard a gasp. It was him, of course.

"Darling, you've made a mess. I don't like messes remember?" He said in his normal slick tone, but the angry in his eyes was evident.

Stiles ignored him and looked down at her arms and hands, bloodied. This time unlike the others by her own making. She slid the ring off her finger and dropped it to the floor. Stiles was done. He would let this go easily and she wasn't going back to staring at the mirror and seeing a stranger. Someone who was nameless, someone who was his creation. Stiles leaned down and picked up one glass shard, hand tearing as she gripped it.

Locking eyes with her husband, who was no longer angry but curious, she said "We're done Peter, one way" she lifted the shard "or another."

**Author's Note:**

> This Tory was originally supposed to be a cute story about Stiles and Jackson falling in love at a strip cob but my music decided that it was time for dark fem steter.
> 
> Should i do a how they met story?


End file.
